


The Stark Legacy

by madam3_p0ptart



Series: Tony Stark has a Midlife Crisis [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: And also any animal, At this point honestly I need a hug, Endgame Sucks, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, F/M, Flash Thompson Redemption, Gen, Harley Keener Needs a Hug, Harley Keener is a Good Bro, He has little self control ngl, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I guess he’s just becoming Bruce Wayne 2.0 uwu, Iron Kids, I’m joking it is specified, I’m still not over Infinity War, M/M, Multi, Nebula being an older sister, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent Pepper Potts, Parent Tony Stark, Pepper Potts Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Pepper Potts Needs a Hug, Pepper Potts acting as Harley Keener’s Parental Figure, Pepper Potts is a Tired Mom, Peter Parker is a Good Bro, Precious Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Tony Stark Acting as Harley Keener's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs Sleep, Tony Stark adopts MANY MANY KIDS, Tony Stark adopts every child he sees, Tony Stark is Good With Kids, the year isn't specified exactly but that's what i had in mind when i wrote this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2020-08-20 05:55:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20222920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madam3_p0ptart/pseuds/madam3_p0ptart
Summary: Tony Stark ends up with, like, 4 Children, Pepper Potts-Stark is a Tired Mom™️, and Happy doesn’t want to admit he’s living up to his nickname.





	1. A Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> I have Chapter 1-69 planned, oof. But, school is starting soon and I’m a Tired Babysitter/Failing Writer™️ (Follow mayamwrites on Instagram maybe)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2 months after the end of The Blip, Peter Stark has a nightmare and relives the death of his late mother, Mary Fitzpatrick. Includes a lot of Hot Chocolate, Fandoms, and Family Breakfast—can you tell I’m a die-hard for domestic! Avengers?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second Chapter, already! I honestly can’t believe I made it. Enjoy this short fluff chapter!

Peter Stark’s dream started off with a Bang. Literally.

The all too familiar sound was one Peter had grown accustomed to at a young age, but that didn’t mean it got any easier to think about.

Then, it was his mom’s face. Mary. “It’s okay, Angel.” She murmured lightly, her porcelain fingers clutching Peter’s tiny, 3 year old hand as tight as she possibly could; which wasn’t very tight. Her shoulder length black hair was sprawled above her head like a dark halo, her other hand pressed and bloody against the wound on her chest. “Mummy’s okay,”

Little Peter shook his head frantically, tears gathering at the corners of his doe-like eyes (eyes that weren’t anything like his mom’s emerald eyes, or his Aunt May’s baby blue’s). He was a smart kid, he liked to read, and he knew that his mom wasn’t going to be okay. He knew it. His tentative ears picked up easily on her words, dripped with lies and sadness.

But, Mary was smart, too. She knew, much like her son, that it was her time. And maybe, she didn’t mind, because maybe, just maybe, her son would be better off with Playboy Stark, anyways. Mary’s only regret was that she had inflicted this pain on Peter (Peter, she thought melancholy, an Italian name fit for the son of an Italian man) at such a young age. Maybe, Peter could forget it.

He never did. A little too much like his father, Peter had great memory. Which only meant that he could remember everything about his mother’s quick demise. The faint smell of iron, the way her hands shook slightly, how her eyes blinked and how her vivid emeralds became lifeless and sad. He remembered her grip on his hand loosening, to the point where it dropped next to her still body. He remembered the sirens, the blue-clad men kicking open the door, and dragging him away despite his pleas.

He remembered Aunt May, her own salty teardrops landing on his cheek to mix with his own when he looked up at her, her fruity-citrus scent that reminded him so much of his mother, and her bone-crushing hug, how she caressed his fluffy brown hair (nothing like Aunt May’s chestnut brown. More like his father’s, his mom would tell him on days she didn’t feel like crying about it. “You’re a spitting image of him, Angel.” Would come her soft reply when Peter prompted on why she was sad) and let him sob into her shirt.

He could remember his mom’s expression clearly, a haunting image. She almost looked relieved (“Humanity is Hopeless, Angel.” She said once, “But, you can Change that.” She seemed so sure of her words.) When the robber broke the window, she was prepared. And maybe, that was what scared Peter the most—he didn’t know how, but, somehow, somehow his mom knew she was destined not to make it, and she was scared. But, she was prepared.

Her comforting words echoed on particularly bad days, and he couldn’t hold back tears, anymore.

He missed his mom, and maybe he had a new one now. But, he could never replace Mary Fitzpatrick.

* * *

]Peter never wanted to call Pepper mom, at first. And he didn’t for a long time. At 10 years old, he knew the importance of the title and didn’t want to give it away so easily. It hurt Pepper, but she couldn’t deny the warmth she felt inside the first time. It was worth all of the times she felt only like a glorified babysitter.

“Mom?” How ironic that it was the first word he thought of when a figure walked into the dimly-lit living room. At least, he hoped it was his mom—besides, if it was danger, why was his Peter Tingle quiet?

Pepper’s sad. He could see it, when he looked up, a little disappointed, too. Her emotions radiate off of her and she looks empathetic, and a little mad. But, Pepper was strong. She always was. She had to be. “Petey,” She engulfed him in a comforting embrace, her expensive scent rubbing off on his torso. “You told me you were getting better.”

Peter hid his face in her shoulder, “I’m sorry,” was his reply. “I didn’t wanna make you worry...”

It was true. Pepper had far too much on her plate for Peter’s liking. He wasn’t so fond of the idea of adding another thing. It wasn’t that big of a deal, anyways. He didn’t want to be a burden.

“No,” They would all say, “you’re not feeling anything abnormal. You’re 14. It’s normal to want to fling yourself off of the tallest building in New York.”

“No.” Peter wanted to tell them, “It’s not. And the fact that you would rather dismiss it as “regular teenage behavior” rather than admit that you maybe did something wrong? Disgusting.”

Pepper settled into the couch next to him, staring grimly at the blank SmartStark Tv. They’ll move back to their home, soon, she promised herself. She was a city girl, born and raised, but even she missed the woods in Uptown New York. Besides, it wasn’t healthy to keep changing Morgan’s setting at a young age. “FRIDAY, play Star Wars: The Last Jedi.”

“Playing: Star Wars: The Last Jedi,” Was FRIDAY’s monotone reply, and even then she seemed quite genuine (more genuine than our politicians, at least).

Peter smiled weakly as Pepper began to caress his fluffy tuffs of brown hair. Tuffs that reminded her so much of Tony. “What was it about?” The Strawberry Blonde asked softly, “The Soul Stone?”

He shook his head. Peter couldn’t say yes if he tried. It was the sad reality that he didn’t exactly remember—maybe, that was a good thing. He was shocked to hear it had been 3 years for them; because to him, it was barely 3 minutes. He had seen flashes of orange, heard faint screams, and woke up right in the same exact spot.

Pepper opened her mouth to say something else, but she couldn’t finish. Before Peter knew it, a body flopped down on the loveseat on the left. He wondered how his hearing didn’t pick it up.

“Hey,” Came the tired voice’s reply.

Harley.

“I couldn’t sleep and heard Star Wars. So, ugh, here I am.”

Harley was 17, now. Peter didn’t let it dawn on him completely. It was only June—2 months since he came back, and he’d already spent countless, sleepless nights thinking about it. They weren’t even a whole year apart. Harley was always older, but, not by that much. Peter wished they could have gone through Sophomore year together. At least, Peter still has Ned and MJ.

An amused laugh came from Pepper. “All it takes for you boys is Star Wars, isn’t it?” Pepper was never quite a big fan of Star Wars until her boys. “How about some hot chocolate?”

“The “Famous Pepper Potts-Stark Hot Chocolate?”” Gushed Harley, “How could I say no? You’re the best, Ma.”

The Strawberry Blonde shuffled to the kitchen, “I know,” She mused, and she was. She was awesome. How could she not be?

She was Pepper Potts, after all (Stark, now, but that’s not all too important compared to her greatness already.).

Once Pepper disappeared to the kitchen, boiling the kettle, Harley turned to Peter. “Another Nightmare?”

Peter nodded.

“What was it about this time? Toomes? Thanos?”

The brunette tried not to think about the nights he woke up hyperventilating because of those dreams. “My mom,” he murmured, just loud enough for Harley to hear. “I remember everything.”

Harley paled only slightly. He had known his own mother well. Victoria Elizabeth Keener was a saint, helped with his homework, took him out on his birthday, and even tucked him into bed every night. She always reminded him to brush his teeth, and not blow up their garage. Most of all, she stayed. She stayed when nobody else would. Losing her drove him into a period of depression, especially with the death of his sister immediately after. He had hoped that if you were as young as Peter was when you lost your mom, you wouldn’t exactly be able to remember much.

But, as expected, Peter was almost exactly just like his father; not to be underestimated.

“Oh,” he replied. That was the end of the conversation, and then he was asking his mom if she needed help.

“It’s alright, Sweets,” Pepper hummed, “as long as you refrain from dropping the cups and breaking Nonna (a play on “Grandma”) Maria’s priceless, irreplaceable China!”

3 cups of cocoa later, and Morgan Maria Stark walks in, holding her father’s hand. “Daddy,” says the 2 1/2 year old, with sad eyes. “Mommy, Petey, and Harley watched Star Wars without us!”

* * *

Morgan is silent, a prominent pout pressed on her face, as her feet dangle from her chair, where she sat atop 3 pillows stacked upon each other.

The sun pours through the windows, and Peter finds himself trying to block it out of his eyes, annoyed, sleepy, and dropping his head on the table. Across from him, Harley is having a quiet conversation with his eggs, apologizing for eating baby chickens. Tony, sitting at the head of the table (across from Pepper. Morgan sits next to Peter and Harley sits alone on the other side of the table), on the other hand, tries his hardest to reflect the sun rays from his glasses onto the couch. Pepper would flip.

But, the Strawberry Blonde is focused on something else.

“Mo, honey,” Pepper tries to speak, but, Morgan only scowls. The only one she seems to speak to is Tony, and no one quite has an idea as to why.

No one but Peter, and his left cheek is pressed against his custom Spider-Man table mat, leaving an intricate pattern. His avocado toast lay forgotten beside his ear.

A moody child, Morgan had her tantrums, and her silent treatments, but, never had she not given a reason why. Usually, her silent treatments would start with a declaration (ex. “I’m not talking to you anymore because I still want a puppy!”). The only thing one can really do is wait until she cracks—and she always cracks eventually. Whether it be in 15 minutes, or 2 hours. Silent treatments in particular never last more than a few minutes. Silence makes her uncomfortable, and Loki forbid Morgan is ever really uncomfortable.

It’s when Harley tries to pass her the bacon when she cracks. “Want some bacon, Morg?” He pushes the plate closer to her, and Peter, sat on her left, crinkles his nose at the smell. He hadn’t eaten bacon since he want vegetarian.

Morgan considers it, and before anyone can really comprehend it, she’s yelling. “You guys watched Star Wars without me!”


	2. Of Uncles Galore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgan is a Harry Potter fan, and Uncle’s Rhodey and Happy swing by for Dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I’m sorry for the late update, but I promise I’m not dead! In fact, I actually had this chapter completed before I posted the 2nd one but I forgot about it...

Morgan’s eyes are bright, and she’s like a ray of sunshine, stuffing her face with popcorn drenched completely in butter and salt (“That can’t be healthy!” “Pepper, dear... love of my life, an angel from God,”) and juice pops. “I wanna watch The Sorcerer’s Stone!”

“It would have been “The Philosopher’s Stone,” if JK Rowling didn’t think Americans were stupid,” Grumbles Peter, offended. “Makes me wonder why I’m even in this fandom anymore.”

“Because Harry Potter is awesome!”

Harley attempts to steal a juice pop and fails. “My mam told me that there was a rumor once that JK Rowling stole it from a homeless man on the streets.” He shrugs as Tony begins to play the first movie, “I don’t think it’s really plausible.”

Peter gasps dramatically, shifting in moods. “Joanne Kathleen Rowling would never!”

“Five seconds ago, you were telling us you didn’t like her,”

“Well, she's a Transphobe. There's no saying how low she'll stoop.”

The resident strawberry blonde of the group began to laugh, stifling her lively giggles with a juice pop. She would never get over her kids antics. Oh, how much she loved them; (To all the Starks in the universe,) as much as there are stars in the multiverse.

Tony puts an arm around his wife, smiling smugly at their little family, “What’s funny, Pep?”

“Nothing, I just feel so lucky.” She answers honestly, smiling. This wasn’t where Pepper saw herself 20 years ago, but she couldn’t wish for more, other than another daughter, really.

But, Morgan was a miracle. The suspense in the first three months of her pregnancy almost literally killed Pepper, especially since she had to spend most of it waiting for her husband to come back, inside if he was ever really coming back at all—unsure if her son was ever really coming back at all, either. Alone, and quite nearly widowed was where she was at that point in her life, and had she not had Happy, Rhodey, Bruce, and Nat, she didn’t think she, or her baby, would really ever make it.

Pepper wasn’t even remotely sure she could do it again. Not for more than 4 months, at least.

Tony opens his mouth to respond, but before he gets out a syllable, Pepper’s phone begins to ring loudly, interrupting the Harry Potter opening theme.

“It’s May,” Pepper smiles, leaving to the kitchen.

The two women had formed a bond ever since Peter was younger.

She knew May had it hard since Ben’s death, especially with Baby Ben Jr. left to grow up without a father. A real angel, Ben was. Pepper and May hit it off immediately after they first met, May had wanted a child for a long time, but it took years of trying. Pepper found herself relating to her after she married Tony, with Tony’s condition... Pepper shuddered at the thought.

“Hi, May,” She greets enthusiastically, pressing the phone to her ear. In the background she can hear Ben’s babbling.

* * *

It’s noon in upstate New York and before Harry says, “But, I’m just Harry,” the doorbell rings and, Morgan, eyes previously glued to the tv, grabs a brother’s hand in each of hers and drags both teens to the door, chanting “Uncle Happy, Uncle Happy, Uncle Happy!”

For a split second, she stops in front of the door and laughs as Harley pries the lock open. “Uncle Rhodey?” She guesses instead, her face breaking into a wide grin when Don Cheadle Her father’s best friend walks through the door, holding a gift bag.

“Domestic life looks good on you, Tones,” He remarks, setting his jacket on the coat holder while Morgan hugs his leg, swinging her hips to let her tutu “dance,” as she puts it.

Tony chuckles, catching Peter around the middle to annoy him, “Nice to see you, too, Honeybear.”

Pepper emerges from the kitchen, and Peter sighs in relief, escaping from his father. “What did May say?” He asks eagerly.

Working as a doctor for SHEILD, Peter didn’t get to see her much, or Ben. And Baby Ben was adorable, his tiny face always made Peter smile, even in the most dire situations.

Happy perks up at the woman’s name. It’s a well-known fact in the Stark household that Happy and May had taken a liking to each other.

“She wants to know if you can stay over this weekend,”

Peter nods, “Yes, please.” His expression turns smug, almost. “Happy can drive me, can’t he?”

Happy agrees a little to eagerly, and Tony, Peter, and Morgan makes a loud gagging sound.

“Last time I was there,” started Harley, chuckling, he himself was fond of his Auntie May, “she threw a banana at Peter’s face because she thought his “Peter Tingle” would tell him to dodge it.”

Peter looked betrayed, “I thought we weren’t going to talk about that, anymore!”

* * *

“Dad,” Harley calls from the backyard, stifling laughter, “We ran out of marshmallows!”

Peter tried to laugh at Happy’s disappointed expression, all he manages to do is spit out a few jumbo marshmallows near the campfire. In retaliation, Happy sighs, and Rhodey offers to take a picture.

Morgan’s eyes are glued to the sky, her back against the grass, she lived in New York for as long as she could remember (and she hated when people only saw the “City of Opportunity” in New York when there was so much more than minimum wage and million dollar apartments. Morgan was smart.), but she would never cease to be amazed by the dazzling sunset. Purple, yellow, and orange hues painted the skies, like an artist’s last goodbye. But, she couldn’t deny she preferred the stars just a tad bit more. The thought that somewhere, out there, there are other universes, other species. She knows her big sister, Nebula, is out there somewhere, and Morgan hopes she knows that she’s thinking about her.

“Peter!” Pepper shrieks and runs over to her son, eyes wide. “Baby, what are you doing!?”

Harley can’t stifle his laughs anymore, and Peter glares at him, but he can’t say anything without spewing marshmallows, so Harley pokes his stuffed cheek obnoxiously. “Oh, come on, mom. He looks so cute!”

Shaking his head with faux guilt, Rhodey tries to hide a smile.“I never should have brought those marshmallows, huh.” It’s not exactly a question, and Happy pats him on the back, mirroring his flux expression.

At that moment, Tony walks through the backdoor, half pouting, half frowning. He looks almost normal, and he loves it. The brunette throws a bag of quality jumbo marshmallows to his son, and Peter catches it with ease. Unfortunately, more gooey goodness drops from his mouth. “Right you are, Honeybear.” Tony takes a seat next to Morgan’s frail figure and begins to reprimand Peter, amused. “Stop leaving Marshmallows on the floor, Pete. You’re attracting Alvin and the Chipmunks.”

“What do you want me to do? Pick them up and eat them?” Peter remarks sarcastically, disposing his now soggy marshmallows in a yellow plastic cup, similar to the red ones you find on Instagram when your nephew’s neighbor’s pet’s friend’s owner gets drunk and tags you by accident. Because, according to Happy, he didn’t want to give the kids a sense of “adulthood,” as they would be babies forever.

The real reason was that yellow was May’s favorite color.

Harley pipes up, “You mean the bunnies. Right, Dad?” He doesn’t look up from his phone, however. He’s just started another new episode of 9-1-1 on HULU.

Tony agrees easily, and Morgan suddenly looks up at him curiously. “Daddy,” she starts, “When’s Nebby visiting again? Gerald’s lonely!”

Gerald the Alpaca takes that as his cue and he nuzzles his head on Harley’s stomach, making the latter drop his StarkPhone (Cruelty Free & Recyclable, mind you!). Harley only laughs, patting Gerald’s head affectionately. “Why would he be?” Harley defends, “He’s got me!”

“He doesn’t like you as much as he likes Nebula,” Peter interjects as a-matter-a-factly as he can. Nebula has taken an obvious liking to Gerald, never having seen an Alpaca before. The first thing she did was try to ride him and order her “army” to charge into battle, which really was just Morgan, Peter, and Harley with pillows tied to their stomachs and backs. Just imagine her surprise when she saw a raccoon for the first time and took a picture just to show to Rocket (“He’s a Trash Panda. Like you,” She tells him fondly. Rocket fumes.)

“Har, har,” Harley mocks, “The King has spoken.”

Peter only scoffs stiffly, “You bow under my throne unaware it was bore of Lies.”

“The throne is mine, you measly peasant!” Says Harley, lunging at Peter.

“Fool!” Peter cries, as his yellow cup toppled down, “You have dropped the Golden Goblet of Resilience!”

“I have only claimed what is mine,”

“Cattywampus!”

The sudden outburst is enough to catch Morgan’s attention.

“Nincompoop,” Morgan giggles, tearing her chocolate brown eyes from the sky. The ones she share with her father and Peter. Harley and Pepper, on the other hand, share bright baby blues.

“Speaking of poop,” Rhodey says warily, a hunt of amusement hiding behind his words, threading them together like cloth. “Gerald just squirted all over the soggy marshmallows.”

The Starks collectively groan.

* * *

It’s about 8:00 PM when Happy and Pepper finish preparing dinner; about a truck’s full of lasagna and some salad. Pepper was reluctant to admit that Happy did most of the work, even with her love for cooking and watching as her children’s faces light up after the first bite. Tony himself could never cook after all, and was always the one with the most praises for his wife.

“Happy finally added the finishing touches to the lasagna,”Pepper almost sounded relieved, walking into the large backyard with her warm smile and hands clad with floral printed oven mitts. The backyardigans had just finished cleaning Gerald’s mess. “I think you guys’ll really like it.”

Morgan is the first one in the kitchen, eagerly propped on her pillows again, and screaming about: “We have to eat fast so that we can finish the Goblet of Fire before bedtime!”

There is enough lasagna for 25 people—there are only 7 of them.Harley and Peter race to see who can finish the most (“I wanna play, too!” Morgan begs. “Look at what you have done, boys.” Pepper chides lightly.), Peter wins with a whooping 9 plates. Pepper nurses Harley back to health with some freshly cut watermelon.

He doesn’t think he can eat anymore.

“I won!” Peter’s enthusiastic, words jumbled by the cheddar. It seems like Peter’s always eating, Morgan thinks.

On the couch, and about to puke cheese and tomato, Harley growls halfheartedly. “Yeah, by one!” Even then, his tone is queasy, it makes Happy wince. Pepper sighs,_ her boys..._

“Don’t be a sore loser,”

“I did 8, even without powers!”

“Yeah, and you look like you’re about to throw it all up, too. Meanwhile, I’m perfectly fine, with the natural Stark physique!”

Stark Men are made of Iron, after all.

Tony speaks for the first time in a while. Not so surprisingly, he had opted to cuddle on the couch with Morgan as Dumbledore spoke calmly on the screen. “Damn Straight,”

Harley snorts, barely keeping in the milk. “Don’t get so cocky there, webhead. We all know who’s the superior one here.”

“Ha!” Peter proclaims loudly, going in for another plate of salad. “It’s me, you doorknob.”

“Tsk, tsk, our doorknobs are Diamond.”

To that, Peter has no reply, shoulders humped ever so slightly as he stuffs his mouth with more green then a six year old could never—which, isn’t really much to begin with. But, Pepper seems proud, and he’s still hungry, so he just goes for it. By the time he’s done, there are no more greens and cheese on the platters.

Friday offers to do the dishes while the family finish up the Goblet of Fire, save Rhodey, who woke up so early he nearly passed out in the guest room (that was always somehow reserved for him).

Morgan’s asleep before: “You know the Prefect’s Bathroom on the Fifth Floor? It’s not a bad place for a Bath.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter might take some time, but I promise to have it out before the end of the week!


End file.
